Revenge
by Fancy-Hart
Summary: Could be seen as CH2 of Crowning Glory, or a stand alone. Snape and Harry feature in 1 paragraph at the end so not a true crossover.


Revenge is a dish best served cold, that's what the mortals say.

Constance?

Constance didn't agree. To her, revenge was a dish best served piping hot by a witch, one with a vengeful heart and the ability to make a Viking warrior weep for his mummy. Any added burns to the spineless Oaf's larynx was an added bonus.

Revenge was something she was very good at.

It had been a few weeks since the emergency with Hubble, and Imogen's convening break down and still either woman had yet to broach the subject; instead dancing around each other and maintaining conversation as though any silence or stillness would force the painful topic to arise and compel them to break the bubble between them.

So far, Constance had not only created several potions (thanks to the wonderful works of Renowned potions master, Professor Snape in Scotland) and dark curses- but she had also found the routine and living space of the "man" who was to taste her dish.

"Man" she thought spitefully, he was no more a man than the ground newt she had placed in her toxic creation. Now, now all she had to was wait for the perfect time , a time when her wife would be otherwise engaged but still had an alibi for the mortal police when they no doubt became involved.

That day was today, and that time was now.

Imogen had been roped into helping Miss Bat decorate the school hall in honour of one of the concert they would have on all hall's eve. Constance was thought to be in her classroom marking potions. She smirked as she placed her hat upon her head. October 31st, the one day she could dress in her traditional garb and not have mortals look at her twice. She grabbed her potion vials and want, spared a brief thought for her wife, and locked her classroom door - placing a silent alarm spell that would notify her should anyone come looking for her. Glancing around to insure no on lookers, she crossed her arms and vanished.

She appeared in the kitchen of the small town house, and waited for her victim to close the door on the latest Trick or Treaters, silently casting a spell to dissuade any more revellers from appearing at the door tonight. This would take time and she did not wish to be interrupted. As he turned, the old man had less than a second to drop his bountiful jack o lantern of sweets before finding himself naked and thrust upon the wall of his basement. Splayed like Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, he struggled against invisible binds and squinted into the shadows in an attempt to see what horrors stood before him. Out of the darkness stepped a tall silhouette of a woman. He heard her strike three matches as she lit the candles he assumed she brought with her. In his fear he had yet to speak, however he found in his attempt to ask who she was and hat she was doing here, he was unable to. His panic increased tenfold. The brunette in front of him laughed. "No one to her you scream" She advanced on him using her left hand she grabbed him by the throat, and with her right hand she thrust the vial shed uncorked with her teeth into his mouth, massaging his throat to insure he had swallowed the whole thing.

"You want to know the best thing about being a witch?" she asked him, sneering as the man continued to struggle.

"We can create…anything…." she laughed.

"For instance the liquid you just swallowed? Bottled fear.. Oh I can't take the credit for that one, that was all my colleague Se-Simon's doing"

Chances are Imogen's mortal father would not escape, even less chance that as a mortal he would be able to find a potions master, but how many Severus Snapes were in Scotland? Besides she had admiration for him and his husband and wished no trouble for either of them. They did kill Voldemort after all.

She took off her hat, placing it gently on the table she had summoned, and unravelled the potions utensils she had brought along with her. It was going to be a long night.

Many, many hours; a few pints of blood (his not hers) a hex or two, and another helping of potion in order to maintain and make permanent the mortal's sense of fear, and Constance was on her way. She knew she couldn't kill him - mores the pity but she had made him suffer. And (unbeknownst to him) she'd be back, every Halloween without fail. A quick memory charm meant that all the old man felt was intense fear and pain, with no recollection of the past 12 hours.

The sun had started to rise and she began her long walk back to Cackle's. Half way there and she sensed the alarm in her classroom ringing. Sighing, she closed her eyes and appeared in her classroom - back in her school robes. She opened the door to her obviously half asleep wife and smiled.

"Love"

"You haven't come to bed? I woke up and you weren't there"

"I had some marking and then got distracted by the potions magazine, something S-"

"Severus Snape?" Her wife smiled "I could get jealous of all the time you spend with him"

"No need to be, you are the only one for me love. Now get back to bed it's still early. I will tidy here and I will be upstairs in 15 minutes"

"Promise?"

"Yes Imogen, I promise" With a kiss the blonde was off.

Just as Constance turned to lock her classroom door, she heard Amelia. "Headmistress" she nodded at her and walked passed.

"You got him, right? And it can't be traced back to you?" Constance turned to see the headmistress, still with her back to Constance.

"Goodnight Headmistress"

Amelia turned and nodded minutely in understanding, the two witches stood silently smirking at each other before both turning on their ways again.

3 days later Harry Snape was awoken to his husband's owl dropping a package on the bed in between them. Opening his blurry eyes he turned to Severus.

"what's that?"

Severus looked at him and opened it, sitting up as the package increased in size.

"It's 30 bottles of fine whiskey, and some unicorn tears…..holy sh- _black_ _unicorn _tears.."

Harry sat up "wow, black unicorn? That's -"

"I know…" Severus sat looking at the package.

"Who is it from?" asked his bed mate. Severus looked for a note, finding a closed envelope he opened it and took out the parchment, and read out loud.

"From one Potions aficionado to another; thank you for the ingredients to the best dish I ever served."

"Huh?" asked Harry.

"I have no idea my brat…..no idea."


End file.
